Skater Boi
by ZeAwesomeBirdie
Summary: He was a boy, he was also a boy, could I make it any more obvious? John loves Avril Lavigne, and forces Sherlock to listen to her music. Sherlock discovers some sentiment towards his favorite doctor, while John uses Lavigne's songs to express his feelings for the consulting detective. johnlock
1. Just Dance

Sherlock Holmes could hear the bass drum from two doors down, before he realized the infuriating sound was coming from 221, most likely 221B as Mrs Hudson didn't listen to such music... The tall brunet walked into the apartment, following the sound grating against his ears as it got louder. Now he could make out singing, if one could call it that, and... was that John singing along?

"He was a skater boy / She said see you later boy / He wasn't good enough for her / Now he's a super star / Slamming on his guitar / Does your pretty face see what-"

John Watson turned as Sherlock graced the top step, in the middle of an air guitar riff, and went bright red.

"Oh hi Sherlock," the blond said quietly, rushing over to the speaker blasting Acril Lavigne's Skater Boi to turn it off. "Didn't expect you for another couple of hours."

His flatmate gave him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. "What do you call that?"

"Um... Well that's Avril Lavigne. Super pretty singer?" John was staring at his feet, looking to Sherlock like a small child who had been naughty.

"They didn't need the help I had anticipated at the Yard, so Lestrade sent me home."

"You never just come home, are you ok?"

Sherlock strode over to his favorite skull and hoisted it up, looking into the cavities where eyes once were, decidedly not responding to John.

After a pause, John asked, "do you want dinner, then? I think Mrs Hudson invited us down…"

Still no response from his flatmate, so he cleared his throat and announced "I'll be downstairs if you need me, then."

As he took his leave, Sherlock couldn't help but turn to watch. This sudden sentiment inside him was new, very new, and he couldn't figure out what had caused it. Out of curiosity, he turned the speaker back on, only to hear a deep, gravely voice say "Just lay your head in daddy's lap you're a bad girl" before a loud guitar started up. He shut the speaker back off. This was what John had been doing since he left at six that morning? Dancing around the flat to this Lavigne girl? Somehow the thought of watching John dance again stirred up more emotions in Sherlock's stomach, and he didn't know what to do about it.

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John returned an hour later, having watched an episode or too of Doctor Who with Mrs Hudson, to Sherlock staring up at the ceiling while laying on the couch. The blond took his usual seat in an armchair across the room after making two cups of tea and depositing one on the table next to Sherlock. He wanted to ask about his friend's day, but knew it wouldn't lead to quality conversation, just awkward silence. Sometimes Sherlock just didn't want to talk. Still, John had stuff to tell Sherlock.

"Mrs Hudson and I bought one of those Wii's that are so popular in America, and a couple dance games if you want to play."

Sherlock mumbled a reply.

"She wants to do a light workout so we'll be playing every other day or so."

Despite himself, Sherlock was getting lost in John's words.

"Of course, you're welcome to join us; I bought three remotes." John had finished what he wanted to say, so the doctor resigned himself to silence until Mrs Hudson came up to play Just Dance with him.

After a few minutes, Sherlock said, "John, keep talking."

"What?" His blue eyes looked inquisitively at the brunet, who just happened to be super cute...

"Keep talking. Say something, anything. Just talk." Sherlock looked over to find John looking at him, and he quickly looked away.

"Um. I cleaned my room today?"

"You clean your room every day."

The ex-army doctor was now staring at his flatmate, not sure what he was expecting from him. As if on cue, Mrs Hudson started up the stairs, knocking lightly before she came into the flat.

"Are you ready to dance, Mrs Hudson?" John asked, starting the process of hooking up the Wii and Just Dance 2.

"As ready as I'll ever be, dear," the older lady responded.

John queued up the game, blushing as he felt Sherlock's gaze on him. The consulting detective had been acting strange lately, and he had an idea of what had happened.

"What song do you want to play first?" The blond cycled slowly through the songs, until Mrs Hudson finally asked for Cher's "The Shoop Shoop Song (It's In His Kiss)".

Sherlock couldn't help but stare, almost shamelessly, at John as he danced. When the song ended, he was quick to return his gaze to the ceiling, as well as make his face as blank as possible.

"Do you want to play, Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson asked after they had played The Rolling Stones' "Sympathy For The Devil" and The Hit Crew's "Holiday". "I need a short rest."

John was breathing a little heavier than usual, and had a light sheen of sweat over his forehead, but seemed willing to continue playing if he had a partner.

"Fine," Sherlock said, much to the surprise of his landlady and flatmate.

"Really? Alright, let's play "Girlfriend"," John said.

"Isn't that that Lavigne girl again?" Sherlock questioned as he tied the remote around his wrist. Whatever John wanted was fine by him, of course.

"Yep. And this dance is a duet, so you be the blue girl and I'm the pink girl."

"Hey hey you you / I don't like your girlfriend / No way no way / I think you need a new one"

Sherlock began to deduce John's motives for picking this song, unless he genuinely just liked it... and then John began to sing along, softly, almost under his breath. It took the brunet everything he could muster just to continue playing the game. What was this sudden sentiment?

John knew Sherlock was deducing his reasoning, but figured just once he'd let it go. His flatmate was dancing, albeit to a game, with him. The thought alone was enough to make his head spin.

"And, hell yeah I'm the motherfucking princess / I can tell you like me too / And you know I'm right / She's like, so whatever / You could do so much better / I think we should get together now / And that's what everybody's talking about"


	2. A Plan Forms

"I can see the way / I see the way you look at me / And even when you look away / I know you think of me / I know you talk about me all the time / Again and again"

Suddenly Sherlock was thinking of all the times he caught John looking -no, staring- at him with sentiment in his blue eyes. This song may be explaining everything… John could almost feel the gears in his flatmate's head turning, trying to deduce what the song meant and why he had chosen it. The game that the blond had initiated would certainly be fun, and he wondered if Sherlock felt the same way.

"In a second you'll be wrapped around my finger / Cause I can, cause I can do it better / There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in? / She's so stupid, what the hell were you thinking?"

And suddenly they were facing each other, as per the dance required. Sherlock's face was bright red, whether from deduction or the sudden exercise John couldn't tell. Mrs Hudson was watching from an armchair, and knew quite happily that John was finally making a move. The pair would be perfect, in her (unprofessional) opinion. John was the only person who was able to tolerate Sherlock's odd mannerisms, and in her book that made them a perfect match.

When the song ended, Sherlock was panting with exertion. His mind was racing, and he nodded to John before laying back down on the couch and mentally smacking himself for not noticing the signs before. Clearly John wanted to meet this singer! Unless he liked him...but no one had ever liked him, so obviously the correct answer is the wish of this Lavigne?

"Want to do Toxic, next?" John said to Mrs Hudson.

"That's The Hit Crew?"

"Uh..." John quickly flipped to the song. "Brittney Spears, yeah."

The song was queued up, and as the dance began Sherlock couldn't help but stare as John pulled off some very sexy hip movements. Mrs Hudson, still slightly winded from the first three songs, couldn't keep up, and halfway through sat back down, leaving John shamelessly dancing. As soon as it was over, he turned and went for his armchair.

"That's quite the workout, huh?" he said breathlessly.

"Yes it really is," replied Mrs Hudson, just as out of breath.

Sherlock returned to staring at the ceiling, the tips of his fingers forming a steeple under his nose.

"Well, what did you think?" John asked him.

"What? Oh, lovely," Sherlock responded. He was thinking on the best way to convince Mycroft to pay Avril Lavigne to play a private showing in/for 221B. Maybe a block party? No, too much. This was for John, not the neighbors. The sentiment was building, once again, and he was quite curious to see where it led him, but now was not the time.

John took the disc out of the wii and put it into its case. He felt Sherlock watching him, as usual, and wondered what the detective was thinking.

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"Singing Radiohead at the top of our lungs / With the boombox blaring as we're falling in love / I got a bottle of whatever but it's gotten us drunk / Singing here's to never growing up"

John woke up early the next morning to the unmistakable Avril Lavigne song "Here's to Never Growing Up" blasting throughout the flat.

"What the hell?" he started to ask, before shaking his head and getting up to deal with a sleepless Sherlock. The stairs leading to the living room were practically shaking as he walked downstairs.

"What do you think you're doing at four in the bloody morning?" he had to yell over the speakers as Sherlock looked calmly up at the ceiling.

"Good morning John," Sherlock said, unusually cheerful.

John shut the speaker off, and turned to stare at his friend. "You know, most people listen to music quietly when it's early."

"That's the volume you were listening to it at yesterday," the brunet shot back.

"Yes but- Sherlock! What if you woke the neighbors? Or Mrs Hudson?"

"Mrs Hudson's already awake, listen and you'll hear Sean Connery-"  
"Still! That is rude!"

John, knowing he wouldn't be getting back to sleep after being solidly woken, went to make himself a cup of tea. Right after the kettle sang, he had two cups out and filled for himself and Sherlock. He left one on the table next to his flatmate, then grabbed his computer and sat down in his favorite armchair. There was an attempt at writing up their most recent case, The Adventure of the Ill-Stricken Wife, but John couldn't get into the right mindset. Just across the room was Sherlock and his kissable lips, and that thought was enough to make him blush.

Sherlock was losing interest in the ceiling, but was determined to not look at the doctor. He needed to understand his flatmate's interest in the Lavigne girl so that he could more adequately explain to Mycroft why he needed a private show. Of course, Mycroft might have already known, who knows what those two talked about. Wait a moment. Mycroft might know why John selected "Girlfriend" and then "Toxic" on that dancing game. Sherlock needed to call or text asap.

*Can you get Avril Lavigne to play in my flat -SH* 4.47

The ringing of Sherlock's phone startled John out of his thinking, and he all but glared in the direction of the couch.

"I can't say much... I am not getting off the couch just to explain this to you... I didn't do anything... No it's about John... Just look at the text Mycroft." And with that, Sherlock hung up the phone. John was left wondering what conversation just transpired as the brunet quickly stood and waltzed into the kitchen for sugar.


	3. Candy Man

"What do you want me to do?... Well explain this to me... Sherlock... When did you develop an interest in American pop?... What?" Mycroft Holmes stared down at his phone as Sherlock hung up on him. It was too early in the morning for this.

"What's wrong?" Greg Lestrade mumbled, rolling over in the bed to look over at his partner.

"Just Sherlock being Sherlock," Mycroft replied dismally. "He wants Avril Lavigne to play for John for some unknown reason. I suspect he's getting sentimental." He pulled his laptop from the bedside table and opened it, already planing the email he was going to send.

"And you have to take care of it right now?" Greg asked, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. "It's five am and unlike you I don't like being woken to up to Sherlock."

"Hush hush." Mycroft planted a soft kiss on Greg's lips, smiling as he did so.

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"Do you want to listen to Avril?" John asked when Sherlock got back from sweetening his tea.

"Fine," Sherlock responded, which was about as enthusiastic as he usually got.

John got up and turned the volume down before starting the speakers playing again. "Here's to Never Growing Up" softly echoed around the flat, at a much more tolerable level. He watched as Sherlock sipped at his tea. The consulting detective seemed to be thinking about the phone call he had hung up on, and John had to wonder with whom the call was.

"What would you do if you could see this Lavigne girl live?" Sherlock finally asked.

"Kiss whomever got me tickets, to be honest." John blushed lightly, looking to his flatmate like a schoolkid.

And of course this information made Sherlock completely and totally aware of his flatmate's thin lips, which looked so- Wait. There's the sentiment again. What was going on? Anyway. "I wonder what Mycroft and Lestrade are up to this morning."

John pulled a quick deduction attempt and guessed that Sherlock had just called Mycroft. "If you just called him and woke them up, I swear Sherlock-"  
"Don't worry, Mycroft is usually awake already."  
So he did call his brother. Mentally, John was jumping at his successful deduction. And then "4 Real" came over the speaker. This was the song that he wanted nothing more than to sing to Sherlock, quietly, as they slow danced in the middle of the living room...

"John."

Sherlock's voice cut into his thinking, and he realized he was staring at Sherlock, lips slightly parted.

"Mhm?" he asked, closing his mouth with a snap.

"I asked if we should go to the Yard. You know I hate repeating myself."

"Right now? I doubt Lestrade is there, its only five or so."

"I'm bored."

Oh boy. John got out of his comfortable armchair reluctantly, going to the door for his shoes. "Do you really think they'll have a case for you this early in the morning?"

"One can always check."

With a sigh, John turned off the speaker and followed Sherlock out the door.

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Greg gave the pair an old cold case, one that seemed to replicate the American Candy Man murders, and off they were to the first crime scene. While at the abandoned candy factory, Sherlock received a call. The brunet looked at his phone in dismay, only to see Mycroft's name in bold letters. His stomach jumped; this call could be about his request in regards to John.

"Yes?" he said into the phone.

"I have set up a private showing in my theater, in two days' time, if you're interested." Mycroft's voice was smooth, hinting that he had a request soon.

"What do you want?"

Sherlock could practically hear the smirk in his brother's voice as he asked, "Can Greg and I join you two? We'll leave if things get...sexual."

"What are you suggesting?" Sherlock asked, feeling his face heating up. Obviously Mycroft knew about his sudden sentiment.

"You know what I'm saying, brother dear. No need to thank me, of course."  
"What time?"

"Seven or so should do. Any song requests?"

Sherlock wracked his brain, but had no idea what the names of any of the songs were... except... "Girlfriend," he said quietly, "And the one that says 'are you for real is this for real',"

Mycroft, familiar with Avril's songs, smiled and agreed before hanging up.

Turning to look at John, who was already at the doors of the factory, Sherlock allowed himself a smile. This would be an amazing surprise for his friend! Suddenly, he remembered John saying that he would kiss whoever got him tickets to a concert. This didn't seem like a bad possibility at all.

John looked back to make sure Sherlock was behind him before stepping into the factory. He didn't usually get 'the heebee jeebees', but this building definitely creeped him out. A loud crash came from inside the building, and John immediately stepped back outside.

"I think someone is in there," he called to Sherlock, who was strolling slowly up to the door.

"Check for footprints."

Looking down into the dust, John smacked himself mentally, realizing that there were indeed footprints leading in and none leading out.

"Let's call Lestrade," he said with a sigh. There was no way he was going to risk Sherlock's life any more than he had to, not after getting closer to admitting his feelings for the detective.


	4. Keeping Safe

Sherlock was in the process of phoning Greg before John had even said anything. Like hell would he put his best friend in danger, especially with the private concert coming up.

"You ok?" John asked him as the brunet came to a standstill beside him. "Aren't we going in?"

"This case is old, it's unlikely that the Candy Man is still here. The person inside is probably just- Why are you smiling like that?"

John grinned up at him, wondering just how sentimental Sherlock had become. He wasn't going to put him anywhere near a risky situation, was he? The blond of course had to test that theory.

"Nothing. I just think we should go in and snoop around."

"The case is two years old, John."

The doctor shrugged. He knew what was up; he could see the smitten look from a mile away. Now to get Sherlock to admit it and just kiss him already. Being as sly as he could, he walked by his flatmate and 'accidentally' brushed his hand. The reaction he got was classic, a sharp breath in and sideways glance before a look down to his hand... John may not be as good at deductions but the flirting game was his forte.

Greg came striding up to them.

"What're you two doing outside the building with a suspect in it?" he asked teasingly, hiding a smile.

Sherlock sighed loudly. "The person inside the factory isn't a suspect."

Shrugging, Greg said, "Still private property, right?" He nodded to three teams who went into the building.

"How is my brother," Sherlock asked, irritated at Greg and John and hoping to get an amusing reaction.

"Just fine, I should think," Greg responded coolly, "He was actually asleep up until your text."

John rolled his eyes, muttering something about the Holmes' ability to not need sleep.

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"Where are you dragging me now?" John asked Sherlock as he followed at a brisk pace behind the detective.

"We need to be dressed nicely for Mycroft's event."

"I always dress nicely."

Sherlock looked back, lifting an eyebrow in disgust. "That will not do." He had, of course, failed to mention that the event that Mycroft would be holding in two day's time was an Avril Lavigne concert.

It was noon, and John was already yawning. Being up early was something he hadn't done in awhile. They had visited Angelo's for breakfast around nine. Sherlock rarely seemed to need to stop and eat, but John was getting peckish.

"Can we stop for something?" he whined, feeling no shame as yet another yawn escaped him.

"What would you like to eat?" Sherlock asked quietly, taking John by surprise. The brunet rarely, if ever, asked what he wanted to eat. This solidified the smitten idea he had been working on earlier.

"There's a wurst shop right over there?" John pointed. A small German shop stood out amongst the usual pastry and bread shops.

"Whatever you want," Sherlock quickly caught himself before anything sentimental came out.

"What event are we going to anyway?" John asked as he munched happily on a bratwurst a short while later.

"You'll see."

"Will it be any fun or just Mycroft and those government goonies?"

"Oh John," Sherlock said mysteriously, "You'll like this."

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A sleek black car pulled up to 221B two days later around six o'clock. Sherlock led the smartly dressed Watson to the car, even being as kind as to open the door for him.

"How rich do you think Mycroft is?" John asked on the way over, causing his friend to snort in laughter.

They arrived to Mycroft's 'humble' home quicker than usual, and John had to wonder what the hurry was. Once inside, he was ushered by an excited Greg to the bathroom.

"Here." Greg handed him a concert t-shirt. "Put this on."

"What? Sherlock said to dress nicely?"

"Just trust me."

And with that, Greg was off giggling to find Mycroft.

A few minutes later John left the bathroom sporting a slightly too large Avril Lavigne shirt, which proudly said "I don't like your girlfriend" in bold black letters. He looked at Sherlock, who was perched on a chair right by the bathroom, for an explanation.

"We've got a concert to get to," he responded.

"We... what?" This cleared absolutely nothing up for the doctor.

"Come along John" Now Sherlock was striding quickly away, towards the theater portion of Mycroft's house.

John set off after him, more confused than ever. Sherlock had been acting weird, now Greg was acting weird. Next he'd be seeing Greg and Mycroft making out at this show, right?

The stage of the theater was set up innocuously enough, a set of drums and a keyboard to one side, an electric bass and guitar to the other, and a microphone in the middle. Greg and Mycroft were holding hands standing in the pit. Sherlock nodded to his brother, who was just as dressed up as he was. Greg was wearing an Avril Lavigne shirt like John was.  
The drummer, guitarist, pianist, and bassist each took their places. As the opening chords to "What the Hell" played, Avril Lavigne herself walked onstage, grabbing the mic and starting to sing.

"You say / that I'm messing with your head / yeah yeah / yeah yeah / all cause / I was making out with your friend / yeah yeah / yeah yeah / love hurts / whether it's right or wrong / yeah yeah / yeah yeah / I can't stop / cause I'm having too much fun / yeah yeah / yeah yeah"

John went wide eyed and stared at Sherlock.

"You said you'd kiss whoever got you tick-"

Suddenly their lips were crashing together as John pulled the taller man down to kiss. After a moment they parted, each breathless.

"No bloody way." John couldn't believe his eyes, ears, or the fact that he just kissed Sherlock Holmes. Greg had his arms up and was jumping to the music, and Mycroft had allowed himself to smile and tap his foot to the beat.


	5. The Concert

"You gonna dance with me or what?" Greg asked, not slowing his jumping. John quickly got into the beat, even allowing a shy singing of some of the chorus.

"Alright everybody who's happy to be here tonight!" Avril called out as "What the Hell" came to a close.

Sherlock chuckled as John and Greg yelled happily in response. Goldfish, right?

The drummer stood up and said into his own microphone, "Just lay your head in daddy's lap you're a bad girl." The guitar came in perfectly, and Avril tapped out the rhythm on her jeans. Mycroft rolled his eyes as both John and Greg screamed along to the backup vocals.

"Miss me / miss me / now you wanna kiss me"

And suddenly Sherlock's lips were occupied by a certain doctor. The blond had pulled him down hard, and hell if he wasn't getting into it. Avril's laugh echoed through the theater as "Bad Girl" ended.

"We need some audience participation in this next one, are you ready?" she said through the mic. She smiled as two of the four men in front of her were jumping around like kids. "The Best Damn Thing" started up behind her, and she yelled "Let me hear you say hey hey hey!"

"Hey hey hey!" Greg and John yelled back enthusiastically, while the Holmes brothers merely spoke the words.

"Alright! Now let me hear you say hey hey ho!"

"Hey hey ho!"

"I hate it when a guy / doesn't get the door / even though I told him yesterday / and the day before / I hate it when a guy / doesn't get the tab / and I have to pull my money out / and that looks bad"

Despite himself, John found himself singing along shamelessly, dancing to the music. He grabbed Sherlock's hands and led him into a light twist, and to his surprise, the detective started to get into it until they were dancing together as if it wasn't the first time.

The band went right into "Bad Reputation" after, and Avril called out, "You know the words, sing along!"

John yelled the starting lyrics right along with her; "I don't give a damn / 'bout my reputation"

Actually appearing to have fun, Sherlock put his hands up like John's and Greg's were and danced along.

"And why should I care / 'bout a bad reputation?"

The silence when the song ended was almost as deafening as the music. John was panting slightly.

"Slight change of pace for this one. Ever woke up with a new tattoo?" Avril looked back at her guitarist, who picked out the start of "Smile"

"You know that I'm a crazy bitch / I do what I want when I feel like it / all I wanna do is lose control / oh oh / but you don't really give a shit / you go with it go with it go with it / 'cause you're fucking crazy rock and roll"

Sherlock found John staring and singing at him, and blushed despite himself. Did the doctor seriously like him?

"You stole my heart / and you're the one to blame"

John gestured to him, so he stepped closer only to get his hands taken in the blond's as they were dancing together again. Sherlock could feel his heart accelerating, and the sentiment was as strong as ever. He glanced over at the others, and was amused and disgusted to find Greg grinding on Mycroft.

"This next one was a special request by Mycroft, so John if you can bare it sing this one loud!" Avril yelled out before starting "Girlfriend".

"Hey hey / you you / I don't like your girlfriend"

Grabbing at Sherlock and pulling him down, John kissed the taller man long and hard. When they broke apart, he sung, "Hey hey / you you / I want to be your girlfriend"

Sherlock's head was spinning, and he was staring in shock at John dancing and jumping in front of him. The song was repetitive enough that by the end he was singing along.

"Rock N Roll" started before the echoes in the room ended.

"Let 'em know that we're still rock'n'roll"

Getting caught up in the concert, even Mycroft was shouting along to the music.

"When it's you and me / we don't need no one to tell us who to be / we'll keep turning up the radio / what if you and I / just put up a middle finger to the sky / let them know that we're still rock'n'roll"

"You guys are a great audience you know that?" Avril yelled into the theater. Her listeners yelled back up to her, and she waited til they were quiet to start "4 Real"

"If I show you / get to know you / if I hold you just for today"

John grabbed Sherlock and put his hands on his flatmate's shoulders, whispering "Dance with me?"

"What dance is this?" Sherlock asked incredulously. "Where do I put my hands?" The brunet went to put his hands on John's shoulders, and John, laughing, took his hands and put them on his hips.

"Like this, then we kiss."

He leaned in slowly, and Sherlock, surprising himself, leaned in the rest of the distance to kiss him back. Unbeknownst to the pair, Greg was taking pictures on his cell phone. As the song ended, they pulled apart.

"Hey," John said, looking up at Sherlock.

Before he could respond, "Skater Boi" was blasting through the theater. John took his hand and jumped up and down to the music, singing along. This was the song that he had walked in on the doctor singing three days ago. Sherlock couldn't help but smile.

"He was a skater boi / she said see you later boi / he wasn't good enough for her"

Greg whispered to Mycroft, "Should we leave for the next song? I know you already paid Avril and her band."

"No, they won't even notice our presence, I'm sure."

Both shrugged, then kissed with sudden passion.

"He's just a boy / I'm just a girl / could I make it any more obvious? / We are in love / haven't you heard / how we rock each other's world"

"Now we're gonna do one more song for you lovely folks. If you know the words, sing 'em nice and loud!" Avril called out for the last time as "I Love You" began.

John turned to Sherlock and sang with all the power and love and everything he could muster.

"The reason I love you is you / being you / just you / yeah the reason I love you is / all that we've been through / and that's why I love you"

Sherlock felt his breathing slow down as realization hit him like a brick. This, this right here, was what John had been wanting to tell him.


	6. The End

It wasn't until they were in the car heading back to 221B that John spoke.

"Would you um... be interested-"

"Yes," Sherlock interrupted, deducing where the question was going.

John blushed slightly, then nodded, before realizing that his friend -datemate?- wouldn't be able to see him in the dark. He thought about kissing the detective again, but wasn't sure where the line was. As if reading the thought, Sherlock had leaned over and kissed him softly, a hand lightly on his cheek.

"Sleep up in my room tonight?" John whispered.

"Fine."

 **a/n: hey everybody, hope you liked this story! This is the first multi-chapter story I've ever finished, I'm so excited and happy with it! Thanks for reading, and see you all next time!**


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